From "IN-Security" written by T. Gregory Argall & Todd McGinnis
Linda explains her childhood obsession with Christmas presents.
LINDA: When I was a kid I could never sleep the night before Christmas. I couldn't stand the suspense and I couldn't stop thinking about it. But then by Christmas morning I'd be so tired I couldn't really enjoy anything. So, when I was seven, I took matters into my own hands. I realized the only way I was ever going to get any sleep and enjoy the day was to end the suspense. So I would wait until everyone, even my dad, was asleep for sure. And then I'd sneak downstairs with tape and scissors and I'd make little surgical incisions in the wrapping until I could figure out what was inside. Then I'd patch the cuts so cleanly no one ever knew. My Dad shaved with a straight razor in those days, and I knew where Mom kept the wrapping paper. Sometimes I had to rewrap entire gifts exactly as they had been wrapped in the first place. But I was like a gift-wrapping savant. I could copy anybody's style. My Mom's: absolutely pristine, no wrinkles, sharp corners and edges, minimal use of tape always placed at precise right angles. My Dad's: even angles on the ends, but always the tape was on an angle and the package edges would always have dents and wrinkles in the paper because he handled things too firmly. My brother's: sloppy in every way, but consistently so.
From "The Accidental Hit-Man Blues" written by T. Gregory Argall
Laura walks in on the body of the hit-man she and her husband accidentally killed the night before.
LAURA: Gah! (pause, sigh) For a moment I forgot you were here. But you are here, aren’t you? Our own personal albatross. Even after we get rid of you, you’ll still be here, won’t you? The elephant in the room. About as easy to carry as an elephant, too. I never really understood the term dead weight until we had to move you. So, thanks. You’re expanding my horizons. (pause, staring at the floor) Why did you have to come into our room? ...Why? Why our room?! Why us? We never-- We don’t deserve this. Life’s been kicking us in the guts for a year, we’re barely surviving, and you, you explode into our lives and destroy any bit of hope we had left. Why did you come in here? Why did you make us kill you? My God, I’m a killer. I can’t-- Why us? Goddammit, why us?
From "South of Hope" written by T. Gregory Argall
Catherine explains why she became a psychiatrist.
CATHERINE: (takes a deep breath) Okay, Johnny. My mother died when I was fourteen years old. It took five years for the cancer to kill her. It was a slow horrifying thing to see happen. When I was younger, my mother was the person that everyone else in the neighbourhood went to for advice. If you had a problem, you'd go see Kate Dunhill. She'd help you find your solution. Then she got sick. (pause) It struck quickly at first, then just... lingered for years. When I was ten, eleven years old, she rarely had the strength to get out of bed. I was at an age where a young girl needs her mother the most, a confusing age. But my mother couldn't help me. She was just withering away, dosed up with painkillers that didn't work most of time. After years of watching her help everyone around us, when I needed her, she couldn't help me. Then she died. And the worst part of all, was that she was remembered for her illness. People didn't remember her as the woman they turned to for help when their lives were difficult, when they needed advice, guidance, whatever. No, they remembered cancer eating away at her for years. That was her legacy. I want to help people. I guess I get that from Mom. After she died, I decided that I wanted to be a psychologist. I seemed a natural outlet for wanting to help people. (pause) It probably sounds selfish and vain, but I guess I thought that no matter what happened to me in life, no matter how people remembered me later, they wouldn't just remember Catherine Dunhill, they'd remember Doctor Catherine Dunhill. They'd remember that I wanted to help people. I can't say that I’d make the same decision for the same reasons now, but it got me to where I am today and I think that's a good thing. (pause) Yes.
From "South of Hope" written by T. Gregory Argall
Jayne discusses her photography career before losing her sight.
JAYNE: Laugh or cry. Those were the only options I would give my subjects. I detested posed photographs. When I was shooting someone‘s portrait, I liked to capture emotions, feelings. Life is a series of emotions and I tried to let my work show that. I would give my subjects the option to be laughing or crying. Like Larry, most chose to laugh. But none of them ever had to deal with what we‘ve been through. The only "lifestyle change" they ever faced was getting rich. (pause) Me, I choose to cry. It reminds me that my eyes are still good for something, even if I can‘t see. Photography was my life. It wasn‘t just a job to me. I loved it. I never felt so alive as when I had a camera in my hands. I‘ll... I‘ll never have that again. Never. I didn‘t just lose my sight. I lost a part of who I am. I can learn to walk around with this damned stick. I can learn to read Braille. In time I‘ll even be able to lead a generally normal life. But I will never, never be the person I was before!